Varthlokkur hovered uncertainly between his wife and Mist, finally halted two hundred yards from the site of Ethrian's fall. Bragi glanced back once, saw the woman in white fade away, saw Nepanthe standing tall and brave beside the gleaming dome. „I hope it comes out for them," he said.
„Who knows? He's too damned stiff-necked for his own good. And she has to learn... ."
Nepanthe shrieked. Bragi whirled. The dome had van ished. Nepanthe was down on the earth, clutching a body, shouting for Varthlokkur. The wizard raced toward her.
„Good gods," Mist murmured. „He's alive. He survived. I don't believe it. He survived the exorcism."
„What exorcism?"
„The ghost woman did it while... ."
„She never made a sound."
Mist chuckled weakly. „You didn't hear her? Then your witch blood isn't as thick as you claim. Come on. They need to be alone for a while."
„You can be halfway decent when you want, you know that?"
„Is that a compliment? Don't kick it around where the Tervola can hear it. I'm a princess of Shinsan now."
„Speaking of which... well, I was supposed to get my caravan people turned loose. Remember? Hsung hasn't come through. Michael says he's gone back to his old ways. We were supposed to get along, I thought."
„Lord Hsung is something of a problem. I'll straighten him out. Or get rid of him." She indicated the wall over the gate. Lord Ssu-ma was up there. „A dead man under Ethrian's control shot that spear. I have to run back to the war with Matayanga. Stay close to Lord Ssu-ma. Some of his staff would love to stick a knife in you. I'll see you in a few hours."
But Ragnarson didn't see her again. She went on to be Princess of the Dread Empire, and he went back to being King of Kavelin. To being King of a Kingdom where the news of his falling out with Varthlokkur quickly spread. To being King of a troublesome witch's cauldron almost eager to boil.
He never did understand everything that had happened before the walls of Lioantung. But he did understand what it had cost him.
The threat he never fully appreciated had been removed at the price of Varthlokkur's support. He sometimes won dered if ever he would be sure he had gotten a bargain.
17
Year 1016 AFE; The Great Championship Match
Dantice leaned back in a plush chair. His feet rested atop a table. To his right a mousey Siluro totalled columns of figures. Opposite him sat a man who weighed over three hundred pounds. Aral said, „The King can't cover any more bets."
The Fat Man rumbled, „I can draw another fifty thousand easy. Since you let it out he was betting heavy, Nordmen have been inventing money. They all want a piece of him. They'd be lined up outside if it wasn't for the weather." Thunder crashed. The building shook.
„Fifty thousand?"
„Minimum. Maybe a hundred."
„Tolliver. What're we carrying now?"
The clerk yanked a paper from the rat's nest atop the table. „King's money, a hundred ninety-six thousand, two hundred forty-three. All others, forty-three thousand, four hundred seventy-two."
„We get a commission on that?"
„Only on the King's money."
„How much belongs to Michael Trebilcock?"
„Forty thousand."
„Meaning three thousand and something is all anybody else would risk. Can you still get odds?"
„They're getting nervous. But still a good two to one."
Dantice tapped his front teeth with a fingernail. „What's the game look like?"
„The King's going to lose ‘less there's a miracle. Charygin Hall reached eight Guards that I know about."
„Can we offset that?"
„Bribes? No way. This much money on the line,
Charygin Hall ain't taking no chances. They've got their boys locked up so tight even their mothers can't see them."
„Then if they lose, nobody will accuse anybody of any thing."
„Be hard to make a case."
„How would you reach them?"
„Don't think I could."
„Uhm." Dantice dropped his feet, leaned elbows on the table. „But somebody goes in and out. They've got to eat."
„Top officers of the Hall. Nobody we can touch."
„None of them owe us?"
„Nope. I checked."
„Who does the cooking?"
„Got an idea?"
„A silly little notion. Been knocking it around a couple days. Suppose the night before the game they ate something that would give them the back door trots next morning. Could you keep your mind on Captures when you had the drizzling shits?"
The Fat Man cackled like a hen laying square eggs. „Oh! Beautiful. But it'd be obvious, wouldn't it? Forty guys don't come down with the runs sudden like."
„Okay. Not everybody. Ten or fifteen. One pot of bad food. Happens all the time, right?"
„They'll suspect."
„Naturally. They're crying foul about the last two games. So are the Guards. Handle it so nobody can prove anything later."
„You saying do it?"
„And cover the rest of those bets."
„What about the money?"
„Get some that's already bet and bet it again."
„Damn, are they going to howl."
„Ask me if I care. What can they do about it?"
The Fat Man grinned a lopsided, evil grin. He hated as only a former Nordmen victim could hate. „All right. Death to the Panthers, and all that crap."
„Good. Tolliver. What's headed for Throyes?"
Ten soldiers stood at attention in Michael Trebilcock's office. Trebilcock wore his seldom-seen uniform. It gleamed. Inside it, he was a cold, pale, angry devil. The soldiers did not know why they had been summoned. He paced up and down, delaying the telling, making the waiting an exquisite agony.
They were terrified. They had heard the stories about Captain Trebilcock's cruel way with those who displeased him. The rumble of the storm fed their dread.
Michael stepped back. „Gentlemen."
One said, „Sir?"
„I can't hear you, Corporal."
They knew this formula well. „Sir?" ten throats thun dered.
„Good." For half a minute Trebilcock fumbled through the notes and gewgaws upon his desk. Then he stared each man in the eye. „The Palace Guard. An elite unit. Hand-picked men. Absolutely loyal to His Majesty. Its men ready to lay down their lives." He settled his rump on the desk's edge. A scrap of paper dangled from his fingers. „A plush posting. Easy duty. Pretty uniforms. Top pay. No field maneuvers. Envy of everybody in the Army. That right, Corporal Nikkles?"
„Yes sir."
„And at the opposite extreme might be the Briedenbacher Light. Border duty in Loncaric and the Galmiches. The regiment for bad boys. Right?"
„Yes sir."
„And then there's Cargo, where the bad boys send their bad boys. One light horse troop right in the heart of bandit country."
„Sir?"
„Nikkles, this piece of paper says you're going to become second stableboy with the Cargo troop."
„Sir?"
„Why? What did you do? Nothing. Yet. If you do, it's Cargo for the lot of you."
„But sir... ."
„Six days ago Corporal Kalsy Nikkles was paid a sum of forty crowns silver. Twenty-five crowns each were paid to Willem Fletcher and his brother Clete. Next day, twenty crowns each to Arman Sartella, Maries Bowyer... need I continue?"
Nikkles said, „Captain, I... ." and stopped.
„Not much you can say, is there? Here's the choice. Cargo or the palace. If you want to stay here, make sure the Guards beat the Panthers."
„Sir, we can't. The only reason I took the money is everybody said they're going to pound us anyway."
„If they do, you're gone."
Someone grumbled, „That's not fair."
„Fair doesn't interest me. Winning does. You do have a third option. Desertion. That puts you on my shit list. I'll catch up eventually." Trebilcock surveyed their ten grey faces. „Nikkles, have I made myself clear?"